


Heatstroke

by athena_crikey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Heatwave, Idiots in Love, M/M, Summer, h/c, heatstroke, suga knows all, volleyball idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:08:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24137113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athena_crikey/pseuds/athena_crikey
Summary: Asahi is watching, wondering if even Yuu could possibly make the save, and so he sees the moment when the libero falters. Sees his legs stumble even as he tries to throw himself forward after the ball. Sees him tumble, collapsing, body going limp even as he flies forward. He hits the ground hard and rolls over once, twice, in an ugly whirl of limbs, and then stops to lie still. Unmoving.Asahi feels his heart shudder in his chest, feels like someone’s suddenly pumped shards of glass into it.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu
Comments: 11
Kudos: 229





	Heatstroke

**Author's Note:**

> And now, time for more fainting fic...

It’s sweltering. Summer at its sweatiest, the heat pouring down from the gym’s roof and rolling in lazily through the open doors, the court like an oven slowly roasting them. Outside the sunlight is blinding as it bleaches the dusty world pale, the cicadas’ cries a distant buzzing, a lone hawk whistling somewhere above. 

Inside, in the inferno, they practice. It’s Saturday, a half-day for the school club activities, and under Daichi’s instruction they perform drills in three-person teams. Asahi, busy though he is with his own practice, can’t help but spare an occasional glance for Yuu. The libero is moving from team to team, his energy inexhaustible, and as one team stops for a break he moves onto the next. He joins Asahi, Narita and Suga for a while, receiving their spikes. When they stop for water he moves on, his pale face flushed with exertion, his smile bright.

Asahi watches as he jogs over to join Kageyama, Hinata and Ennoshita, the three of them on the far side of the net working on serves. Asahi’s tired and hot and thirsty, sticky with sweat and eager only for a cold shower and a change of clean clothes. Even the water out of the taps is warm, the electrolyte mix Kiyoko adds giving it a taste of desiccated, oversweet citrus. 

Asahi chats with Suga and Narita as they stand against the wall, watching the other groups play. Even standing still the heat is an uncomfortable blanket, the humidity stifling. 

Asahi has eyes only for Yuu, the libero diving and rolling and running without pause. He’s quite red now, sweat pouring off him, and Asahi wonders when the last time he took a break was. Yuu has exceptional stamina, but in this heat…

Kageyama tosses to Hinata, who spikes towards Yuu. The ball goes long, over the libero’s head, and he sprints back after it, arm extended. 

Asahi is watching, wondering if even Yuu could possibly make the save, and so he sees the moment when the libero falters. Sees his legs stumble even as he tries to throw himself forward after the ball. Sees him tumble, collapsing, body going limp even as he flies forward. He hits the ground hard and rolls over once, twice, in an ugly whirl of limbs, and then stops to lie still. Unmoving. 

Asahi feels his heart shudder in his chest, feels like someone’s suddenly pumped shards of glass into it. 

Everyone shouts at once, balls dropping across the court. But Asahi’s already moving, and in a moment he’s kneeling beside Yuu, turning him over, his body limp. His face is red, his breathing hard; his small frame is shuddering with each breath. Asahi lays the back of his hand against Yuu’s cheek and finds it very hot. He looks up to see Daichi kneeling across from him. 

“I think he has heat stroke. He’s burning up.”

“Hasn’t he been taking breaks?” demands Daichi. 

The rest of the players look at each other, and Asahi can read the thought in their head: _Noya never slows down long enough for a break._

“He has so much energy,” says Hinata; behind him Kageyama looks down at the smaller decoy. So does Hinata, but the setter makes him take his breaks. Guilt washes into Asahi, hot and viscous like bile; _he_ should have been the one to make Yuu take his breaks. 

Daichi’s face is dark, thunderous, but Suga breaks in before the inevitable eruption. “He needs to go to the nurse’s office – there’s AC there, and ice.”

“I’ll take him.” Asahi’s already scooping him up, Yuu’s head lolling against his shoulder, his dark lashes sweeping softly against his cheeks. He looks vulnerable, delicate like this. Looks wrong. 

“Tell him he’s got one hell of a lecture coming when he wakes up,” grumbles Daichi. But Asahi can see the concern in his eyes, the softness he won’t show in front of the team. It’s a captain’s job to strong and stern, especially in the face of doubt.

“Alright,” says Asahi. Hinata and Tanaka hurry in front of him to the door to lift the net. For once, he doesn’t bother changing his shoes. He hurries across the covered walkway to the main school building, Yuu heavy and warm in his arms. Despite his diminutive size he’s mostly muscle and is heavier than he looks. 

Asahi slides the door to the school building open with his foot, sidling in sideways and letting it close on its own. The nurse’s office is on the first floor down past the teacher’s room; he looks into that as he passes and sees that it’s empty. The few teachers who are here today are probably out supervising club activities. 

The nurse’s office is dark and empty. It’s a long narrow room with a desk near the entrance and two beds standing beneath the window. There’s a movable screen, a sink and a mini-fridge with freezer drawer, and cabinets mounted on the wall. Asahi hurries to the nearer bed and puts Yuu down carefully on it; his body sprawls gently, limbs falling soft as snow. It’s surprisingly graceful, but in its grace it’s wrong – Yuu is confidence and power and fearlessness and while his movements are streamlined on the court there’s nothing graceful about them. 

Yuu’s breathing has evened out, his face no longer red with exertion and heat. But there’s still sweat beading on his skin, his hair damp with it, his shirt sticking to him. Asahi pulls his shoes off, putting them on the floor beside the bed, then finds the remote to turn on the AC; above the window the machine hums into life, cool air pouring out of its maw. 

Asahi pokes into the tiny freezer drawer and finds gel cool packs; he takes them out and brings them over, placing them beneath Yuu’s shirt on his hot chest and torso and putting one on Yuu’s forehead where it weighs down his thick hair. He finds a glass and fills it with water, setting it down on the short table between the two beds. He discovers a hand towel in the cupboard and soaks it, then returns to the bed where he washes Yuu’s face and limbs with the cool cloth. When he’s done them all he takes a seat on the side of the bed and reaches out slowly, stroking Yuu’s damp hair away from his face. 

Their relationship is still a secret, although with Suga’s sharp eyes and Yuu’s complete lack of poker face, it’s only a matter of time. It’s been a slow-building romance that blossomed out of a close friendship in the past few months, Yuu excited and eager and Asahi nervous and shy – and yet so hungry for the sunshine of Yuu’s affection. Yuu can be overenthusiastic about a lot of things, and he still presses for what he wants, but with Asahi he’s always careful not to push too hard. He treats Asahi with infinitely more consideration than he treats himself. 

Asahi frowns, thumb tracing the line of Yuu’s cheek. So many things come before Yuu in the libero’s mind – volleyball, friends, Asahi… It’s not that he disrespects himself, it’s just that he values others so highly. And when it comes to his health, that’s dangerous. Yuu throws himself after balls without a care in the world, constantly coming up from digs battered and bruised. It’s only his fitness and his athleticism that have kept him from being seriously injured thus far. It makes Asahi’s heart hurt, makes his chest ache – Yuu’s plays are stunning because he throws all of himself into them, but they’re also heart-rending because he has so little regard for his own safety. 

The room is cooling now; it’s a small space and the AC is set low. Yuu’s skin is slowly drying, his temperature lowering. Asahi turns the gel pack on his forehead over, combing his fingers through Yuu’s bleached bangs. Yuu’s brows twitch, eyelashes trembling. Then, slowly, his amber eyes slide open.

He stares up for a minute without moving, blinking slowly. “Asahi-san?”

Asahi smiles, heart easing. “Yes.”

He tilts his head to look up at the AC, then around the room. “What happened?”

“You passed out on the court. Heat stroke. Drink this.” He slips a hand beneath Yuu’s head and raises him, holding the glass to his lips. Yuu drinks thirstily, draining half the glass in one go. Asahi can feel that his skin is cooler now. Still, Yuu stays lying stilly, eyes slightly unfocused. Asahi reaches out again and brushes his fingers against Yuu’s check; the libero nuzzles his face against them, eyes slipping closed. “Mm, feels nice,” he whispers. 

“How do you feel?”

“Sick. Headache. Crappy,” says Yuu without opening his eyes. “Daichi-san must be _pissed_.”

“He is. But he’ll get over it.” 

“Not until he gives me a huge-ass lecture,” mutters Yuu. He groans and rolls over onto his side, curling up. Asahi takes the gel packs that tumble off and carefully replaces them to keep his body cool. 

He’s never seen Yuu look so miserable. His face is tight with discomfort, his fingers twisted in the bedsheets. Asahi gets up and wets the cloth again then returns, gently washing Yuu’s neck and arms. “You should drink some more,” he says when he’s done, and helps Yuu lean up to swallow the rest of the glass of water. 

“’M so lame,” murmurs the libero, curling up tighter. 

“I don’t think that’s your problem,” says Asahi. “Maybe not being lame _enough_ is. Lame people take breaks and drink their fluids and rest, Yuu. They don’t drive themselves into exhaustion.”

Yuu’s eyes slide open, usually-bright amber dull. “Not trying to be cool.”

“No, I know that. But you focus so hard on playing a great game that you forget to take care of yourself. And I don’t like that. No – I _hate_ it,” says Asahi, hands fisted, nails digging into his palms. He’s staring at his knees, heart hammering nails into his ribs, each beat powerful, painful. “I never want to see you hurt. It’s awful.”

“Asahi-san…”

“And – I’m sorry. Because I _know_ you get too focused and I _know_ you forget to look after yourself, and I should be there to remind you.”

Yuu makes a strange noise and Asahi looks up at him. His face is scrunched up, his eyes narrow. “’S not your fault,” he says. “No way.”

“You’re so important to me. How could I not look after you? But it didn’t even occur to me to remind you to rest or drink enough. Not even when I noticed you were skipping breaks.” That shame rolls over him now like hot tar, sticking to his skin and searing it. 

“’S my job to know my limits. I’m the one who screwed up. So don’t look like that, Asahi-san.” Yuu reaches up a shaky hand to cup Asahi’s face. “What hurts you hurts me.”

Asahi smiles through the pain in his heart, a timorous, weak smile. “I guess we’re just a pair of idiots, huh?” he says, putting his hand over Yuu’s.

The libero smiles softly. “Sure are.” He sighs. “You gonna go back to practice?”

“I’m not leaving you,” replies Asahi, immediately. “And you’re staying here until you’re cool enough to go home.”

“Worried I’m gonna sneak out?”

“No. I just want to be with you.” He leans down and presses a chaste kiss to Yuu’s temple. Yuu squirms in the bed, wriggling over against the wall and freeing up space beside himself.

“Come on in,” he says.

Asahi looks at the narrow space doubtfully. “You need to stay cool.”

“You don’t need to pancake me,” replies Yuu. “C’mon; there’s plenty of room.”

Asahi toes off his shoes and slowly, carefully, lies down on his side facing Yuu. The libero sighs and smiles, reaching out to take Asahi’s hand and place it against his face, pressing up into it. Asahi holds his palm there, fingers feathering through the downy hair at the nape of Yuu’s neck. The libero closes his eyes, and gradually his breathing slows. 

Asahi lies there watching him sleep, his face soft and his lips just slightly parted. He looks… not quite innocent, not quite sweet. Peaceful. At ease with himself and his surroundings. It’s the way he looks when they finish kissing and simply bask in each other’s presence, warm and content. 

Asahi closes his eyes and slowly, without meaning to, falls asleep.

  
***

He’s woken by the sound of the door sliding open. Asahi’s eyes flash open; beside him Yuu is still sleeping. Beside him in this tiny, narrow bed, Asahi’s hand fallen to rest over Yuu’s neck, their legs intertwined.

Asahi rolls back and tumbles off the bed, landing hard on the linoleum floor, and looks up at the door in horror. 

“Well,” purrs Suga, eyes alight with laughter. “What have we here?”

Really, thinks Asahi, it was only a matter of time until Suga found out. “Um,” he says.

“I hope you haven’t been taking advantage of Nishinoya,” says Suga, eyebrows rising. 

Asahi feels his face flush. “I would never –”

Suga smiles. “Chill, Asahi. I know. I’m kidding. But you _have_ been taking care of him, haven’t you?”

He gets up, nodding. “Ice packs and water.” He reaches out, placing the back of his fingers against Yuu’s forehead; his temperature matches Asahi. “He’s cooled down.”

“Good. Practice is over; most of the team’s gone already. Daichi sent me to get you.”

“Did he? Or did you volunteer?” asks Asahi suspiciously. Suga’s smile turns impish.

“Well. I have had my suspicions, you know.”

Asahi sighs. “Of course you have.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Not even Daichi?”

“Not even Daichi. On one condition,” says Suga, holding up one finger. He’s glided over to stand beside Asahi, looking down at the sleeping Yuu.

“What’s that?”

“You make sure this idiot understands he has to take care of himself.”

Asahi glances at Suga. The setter’s watching the libero, his eyes soft, sad. Asahi nods, then looks back down at Yuu. “I will. I promise.”

He doesn’t need Suga to prompt him; he’s already determined it himself. They may both be idiots, but that doesn’t mean they can’t look after each other. 

On the bed Yuu stretches and opens his eyes. “Asahi-san?” He blinks. “Suga-san?”

“I was just leaving,” says Suga, grinning toothily; he waves at them and struts out. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he calls as he closes the door behind him.

“Asahi-san?” says Yuu, frowning. 

Asahi sighs. “I’ll tell you on the way home. Are you okay to go?”

Yuu nods, sitting up. “I think so. Thanks to you.” He reaches up and pulls Asahi down into a kiss. “Thanks, Ace.”

“Next time, I’ll take care of you properly. Then you can really thank me,” says Asahi. 

Yuu’s grin turns wicked. “It’s a deal.”


End file.
